


Sandcastles in the Sand

by knox (booyouwhoran)



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Crack Treated Seriously, Frottage, Hux and his Tax Forms, M/M, hux hates sand and kylo and holidays, reference to cocktails, the vacation fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-24
Updated: 2016-05-24
Packaged: 2018-06-10 10:24:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6952855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/booyouwhoran/pseuds/knox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hux hates vacations. Kylo Ren and his obscenely short swimming trunks are not helping.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sandcastles in the Sand

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nereidlilies](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nereidlilies/gifts).



> So I finished reading the fantastic Something About Volcanoes today and of course had to write about Hux and Ren going on a forced holiday.
> 
> I'm sorry about the title, but the other option was a lyric from California Girls by Katy Perry. This was the lesser of two evils. I was also listening to terrible 80's music while I wrote this so take from that what you will.
> 
> As always, shoutout to the delightful Isabelle for being my porn cheerleader.
> 
> Warnings for: improper use of suncream, First Order booty shorts, terribly named cocktails and references to /that/ sand monologue

General Hux was not particularly fond of vacations.

In fact, he was tangibly un-fond of vacations.

Being forced to have a vacation with none other than Kylo Ren was really the icing on Hux’s holiday vendetta cake.

The man in question was currently wearing an obscenely small pair of First Order sanctioned swimming briefs and, inexplicably, his new mask, recommissioned after the collapse of Starkiller base.

After said horrific explosion, Snoke had insisted that they get off the Finalizer and go somewhere ‘relaxing’. Frankly, Hux could not think of anything less relaxing than a beach planet usually reserved for First Order newlyweds on their honeymoons. Particularly when his roommate was Kylo Ren. Apparently _someone_ had spilled the beans to Snoke that in a week after Starkiller base, Hux and Ren had collectively caused 34 requests for transfer, 7 injuries and one droid that, when confronted with Kylo Ren in medbay, had attempted to fling itself out of an airlock. When the droid was rescued, it had beeped something about ‘self-preservation’ and promptly shut itself down. Hux was inclined to blame Ren for most of the incidents, though he had to admit that he’d perhaps been a little… _testy_ recently.

Besides, Hux was in no position to question the Supreme Leader and had now resigned himself to the cruel and unusual fate of Kylo Ren in swimming shorts.

Perhaps it was the fourth Starkiller Sling he’d indulged himself with, but he couldn’t help turning to Ren, who was lounging on a deckchair having scared the other beachgoers away.

“Really, Ren, are you actually ridiculous enough that you’re going to leave the mask on? Are you worried about sunburn? Did you forget to pack a hat? Surely you’re aware of the horrific tan lines that thing is going to give you.”

Ren looked at him (at least, Hux thought he did. The mask gave him the creeps and he refused to make eye contact with it while Ren was mostly naked). In one swift motion, the ridiculous thing was off, Ren’s mouth twisted into a repugnantly pretty pout.

“Are you sure you should be the one lecturing me about sunburn, General?” Ren’s mouth slid into a slow smirk.

Hux hated it when Ren thought he was being funny. Ren was the least funny person Hux had ever met, and Hux had grown up with a talking Tarkin doll and a droid for company. Still, he shifted back so his body was better covered by the shade of the large yellow umbrella the ceaselessly friendly purple staff had given them. Hux hated yellow, he hated sand, he hated Ren and he particularly hated the sun. It was after a vacation such as this that the first inspiration for Starkiller base had come to him.

Sadly, the only stroke of genius that came to him now was changing the design of the swimming costumes because really, showing that much thigh should be illegal. Hux was glad he had taken the liberty of packing a pair of knee length shorts to match his festive grey undershirt. Grey was his fun colour.

Ren was giving him an appraising look and then handed him a small bottle of sun cream. Hux stared at the bottle for a moment. He was already coated in the stuff. In lieu of words, Ren gestured to his naked, sweaty torso and Hux felt his pupils dilate.

“Would you do the honours, General?” Ren’s smirk was back in full force.

 _Come on, man_ , Hux reassured himself. _You’re the youngest ever general of the First Order. You once fought off a rapthor with a butter knife and a bottle of olive oil. You told Geneva Palpatine she had spinach in her teeth at an Imperial dinner._ Gritting his teeth, he clambered onto the deck chair behind Ren, allowing his knees to bracket his thighs. The sun cream lotion was cool as he spread it across Ren’s shoulders, allowing himself the small indulgence of kneading it into the firm muscle there as he swept his hands lower, rubbing the cream in small circles into the dimples of Ren’s back. What he was unprepared for, however, was the little groan Ren gave him as he did it, resulting in an unfortunate situation in his shorts. When he was satisfied that Ren was suitably sun protected, he removed his hands with a small sense of loss. He began to clamber off the deck chair, subtly trying to hide his erection.

“Aren’t you going to do my chest?” Ren asked, voice a low rumble. Hux moved to face him, Ren’s ridiculousness firmly dampening any arousal.

“Ren, you are aware you can reach you own chest, aren’t you? The last time I checked, you did have normal sized arms. Darth Vader’s limb curse hasn’t befallen you just yet.”

“But Hux,” Ren whined, flapping his arms and looking up at Hux with what looked suspiciously like puppy dog eyes (Hux had never seen a puppy dog, and didn’t really understand the context of the phrase), “I’m injured. From Starkiller Base.” Ren flopped back onto the chair as if to prove his point.

Hux was having none of it. “Ren, I literally saw you doing push ups less than two hours ago. You had a pile of coconuts on your back. I distinctly remember because I said ‘Ren, those coconuts are going to fall off your back’ and they did, and one landed on your head. You wouldn’t talk to me for fourty-five minutes.”

Ren rolled his eyes and Hux sighed, gingerly depositing himself on Ren’s lap. Those shorts really lacked coverage. Hux made a mental note to speak to the First Order’s uniform designer. Taking a deep breath, he placed a hand on Ren’s unfairly muscled abdomen and began distributing the cream. He squirted over Ren’s stomach, resolutely ignoring the very suggestive image of the white liquid and thought of Hutts instead.

Ren’s curious moles covered his chest too, and Hux let his hands swipe over them gently. Ren was watching him intently and in retaliation, Hux ghosted over his nipples. The keening noise he made was entirely worth it. Hux tried to think of tax forms in the hope it would calm his no longer flagging erection. Unfortunately it had the opposite effect.

“Do you really get turned on by tax forms?” Ren’s voice was enough to shake him out of his reverie, and Hux frowned at him, removing the hands.

“Kriff off, Ren. Besides, you can hardly talk. Your dick is sticking out of your swimming trunks.” 

Ren glanced down and Hux smirked. He hadn’t been lying. Unfortunately, Ren took the opportunity to grab Hux’s wrists and pin them to the centre of his chest, rocking his hips up experimentally to meet Hux’s. Hux was unable to stop the involuntary gasp that left him.

“Ren, we are not rutting against eachother like teenagers on a beach!” He hissed.

Ren gave him a look and gestured to the deserted beach. Apparently, the last thing newlyweds wanted to see on their honeymoon was the General of the First Order and the Master of the Knights of Ren grinding like they were Twi’leks in a blue moon disco. The stutter of Ren’s dick against his own left Hux gasping and Ren laughed, properly.

“Come on Hux, don’t tell me this doesn’t fulfil some dark little fantasy of yours, letting loose where anyone could see us.”

Hux scoffed, which was rather impressive considering he was currently bouncing up and down on Ren’s thighs like a child on an inflatable castle. “Please, Ren, I prefer my Sex on the Beach to be of the alcoholic variety.”

“Of course you like those prissy drinks, I wouldn’t expect anything less.” 

“They aren’t _prissy_ Ren, just because your sense of masculinity is too fragile to enjoy-REN! PUT ME DOWN!”

Ren had picked him up by the thighs, leaving him no choice to wrap his legs around Ren’s waist. Said man was now striding determinedly towards the water as Hux half-heartedly beat his shoulders. 

Ren looked him dead in the eye, wiped a smear of sand off Hux’s forehead and began wading in.

“’S cleaner this way. Anyway, sand is the worst. It gets in everything.”

Hux sighed and resumed his rutting. If he was going to be forced into ocean frolicking with Ren, he was damn well going to get an orgasm out of it. Ren used the coverage of the water to start rocking against Hux in earnest, and Hux stifled his loud moan against Ren’s neck. Then, a fit of inspiration hitting him, he kissed Ren full on the mouth. Ren tasted like salt and lemons, oddly enough, possibly a result of that peculiar coloured ice he’d been eating earlier. He was delightfully sticky in a way Hux hated that he enjoyed. The friction was almost unbearable and that, combined with the feeling of Ren’s tongue running over his bottom lip, was what pushed him over the edge. Panting, he clung to Ren, who was now jerking himself off under the water as Hux let go, feet thankfully hitting the sand. Then, unable to contain it, he divided under the water, revelling in the feel of the cool water cleansing his sweaty body. When he stood up Ren was smiling at him now, properly grinning.

“See? Much cleaner.”

Instead of responding, Hux grabbed a large lump of seaweed and deposited it neatly on Ren’s head. He looked ridiculous, strands of the weeds cascading down his face like a truly horrendous wig. His shell shocked, fish gape expression made the entire façade even better.

“Fuck, I’m going to get you for that, Hux!” Ren dived under the water and grabbed Hux by the leg, tugging him down. Hux, who had been laughing the hardest he had in a very long time thankfully had the forewarning to close his mouth before Kylo tugged him under the water. Hux opened his eyes. Under here, Kylo looked ethereal, lit by the green water, hair fanning out behind his head. Perhaps it was the lack of breath making him dizzy, but Hux let himself glide a finger down the bridge of Ren’s ridiculous nose before pushing himself out of the water. Ren followed immediately, gasping for air before grabbing Hux by the waist and kissing him once, firmly on the mouth, eyes alight with something Hux categorised, with distant surprise, as happiness.

Perhaps, Hux thought as he watched Ren dive between the waves like a mermaid, or perhaps a siren, vacations weren’t as awful as he thought they were.

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> come yell at me on tumblr @orgvnas!


End file.
